


Of Wands And Jellybeans

by AnonymousSong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Kid John, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, Potterlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousSong/pseuds/AnonymousSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[For Fuckyeahteenlock's Potterlock Contest]</p><p>John Watson meets an interesting boy amongst the books of Flourish and Blotts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wands And Jellybeans

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more of this :3 I pretty much wrote this within the past few hours?? Yeah, I'm a terrible procrastinator...
> 
> Can you blame me? BecausE SEASON 3 HAPPENED //cries forever, drowns my sorrows in kidlock//

Harriet pushed John out of the way, so as to get a better look at the broomstick in the window.

“Watch it!”

“You watch it! I want to look at my future broom, not your stupid head!”

“My head’s not stupid, yours is!”

“Harriet, John!” Their mother called, coming closer. She had Harriet’s school list in one hand, a quill in the other. “How many times have I got to tell you two to stop fighting?”

“He started it,” Harriet claimed.

“Did not! You shoved me!”

“Stop!” Bella commanded, sighing. Her dark eyes were strained as she looked over Harriet’s list and scratched off the cauldron and robes. “Right, luv, let’s go get your books now, how’s that?”

“Mum, can I get a broom?” Harriet asked instead of answering.

“You’re a first-year, sweetheart. No broomsticks, says right here in clear writing.”

“Looks like you’re going to have to learn to read, Harriet.”

“Shut it, inchworm! You’re not even going to Hogwarts yet!”

“I will in two years! And I bet I’ll be better than you, just watch, I’ll blow you out of the water!”

“Harriet, John, please!” The two children huffed and glared at each other. “Merlin’s beard, you two, honestly. Keep this up and I swear, there will be no ice cream for the either of you.”

Bella grabbed John’s hand as both children began to protest. She ignored their cries and led them towards Flourish and Blotts with Harriet following behind, kicking rocks into the backs of John’s legs. He fumed about it, though kept silent. He wanted that ice cream.

They entered the store, which was slightly busy with a few other parents and children, all looking for school books. John shook himself away from his mother’s grasp and squeezed past everyone to make his way to the back of the bookstore.

He moved around piles of books, looking up at the towering shelves. John didn’t touch anything, having caused an earlier disturbance in the Apothecary shop when he’d touched one vial and destroyed an entire shelf of potions. The owner had thankfully just waved his wand to restore the damaged products back to their proper form but he’d gotten a terrible scolding and he wasn’t looking to having another.

Reading the labels, John made his way further and further into the bookshop, not even phased that it was so large. It was commonplace for things not to make sense; after all, magic was magic. If the shop was bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, who was he to call it odd?

Reaching one section, John discovered that all the books were about hexes and curses. He stopped to read all the covers, not quite watching where he was going.

“Who are you?” came a quiet voice.

John wiped around, hand over his heart. He backed into the bookshelf, ready to defend himself for his presence being so deep within the shop, but stopped when he saw the speaker.

It was a thin boy with large grey eyes and curly, dark hair. He was all knees and elbows and pale skin, surrounded by mountains of books. His outfit was a simple pair of dark trousers and a button-down white shirt, both incredibly wrinkled. John noticed that his feet were bare, then spotted shoes shoved underneath the plush sofa the boy was sitting on.

“I said, who are you?” the boy repeated, closing the large book he had been reading. His grey eyes were narrowed and his accent was posh.

“John Watson. Who’re you?”

“What are you doing back here?” the boy asked, avoiding the question.

“Hiding,” John answered, calming down. He stepped away from the bookshelf and tried not to stand too awkwardly. It felt like he was invading someone’s private room.

“From whom?”

“My mum and sister. They’re driving me ‘round the bend.”

The boy suddenly grinned and John saw that he was missing an upper tooth. “Excellent. I’m hiding from family as well.” He held up a hand. “Sherlock Holmes.”

John stepped forward and shook Sherlock’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Are you just back here reading?”

“Of course. There’s so much to learn! Potions and hexes and curses and all these brilliant things! My brother told me I wasn’t allowed to read any of this but he’s preparing to go off to school and won’t be able to stop me.”

John sat himself down on the sofa next to Sherlock. “Is your brother going to Hogwarts?”

“Off to start on his fifth year, the fat git. Your sister goes there too, yes?”

“How’d you know that?” John asked, amazed.

“The tag on your shirt is sticking out. It says ‘Harriet Watson.’ Hand-me-down, I’m guessing, from an older sister. And most people coming in today are here for school books.”

“Wow, you got that out from my shirt?”

“’Course.”

“That’s neat! What sort of magic trick is that?”

Sherlock pouted. “It’s not a magic trick,” he said in a sullen voice. “I did that all on my own.”

“Amazing,” John breathed.

“You…” Sherlock paused, sitting up a bit straighter. “You believe me?”

“Of course, mate! Blimey, you’ll be in Ravenclaw, no doubt, with a brain like that!”

Sherlock just blinked a few times at John before clearing his throat. “Yes, that would be nice, I suppose.”

John smiled and sat back against the sofa. “I can’t wait to find out what House I’ll be in.” He launched forward to his feet, holding a make-believe sword forward. “I hope I’m in Gryffindor! They’re the bravest!”

“’Bravery is a kind word for stupidity,’” Sherlock quoted. John deflated a bit and turned to look at him. “Something my brother told me.”

“Your brother sounds like a prat. What house is he in?”

“Slytherin.”

John snorted. “Figures. I hear they’re all prats in Slytherin.”

“Everyone in my family is a prat and in Slytherin so that might be true. Should do a proper experiment on that.”

“Everyone in your family’s Slytherin?”

“Yes. They’re all so obsessed with power. It’s annoying.”

John considered Sherlock for a few moments. “Well, I think you’ll be a great wizard, no matter what House they put you in.”

Sherlock looked at John and his eyes were terribly sad for one not even old enough to get a wand.

“John! John Hamish Watson, where are you?”

“Christ, that’s Mum,” John sighed. He reluctantly started moving away from the area Sherlock had claimed. “I’ve got to go.”

“Obviously.”

“You gonna be here awhile?”

“Probably.” Sherlock popped open the book in his lap, going back to the words. “Mycroft was getting fitted for robes when I last looked. They’ll be hours.”

“Want to come for ice cream?”

Sherlock looked up, confused. “Really?”

“Yeah! They’ve got Butterbeer flavour and it’s amazing!”

The dark-haired seemed to consider it for a few moments, while John’s mother’s cries continued on. He bit at his lower lip before clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“No, thanks. Don’t much like sweets.” Sherlock curled his feet closer onto the sofa, sticking his nose into the book.

“You sure?”

Grey eyes gazed up. “Fine.”

“All right.” John backed out of the book area, giving an awkward last wave. “You, um, gonna be here later?”

Sherlock hummed.

John waited for more of an answer. He cleared his throat. “Okay, see you around, then, Sherlock.”

“Bye, John.”

It didn’t take long for John to find his mother and he got a slight scolding for wandering off. Harriet tried to question him on what he had been doing but he shook her off long enough that she got distracted by getting to pick out a pet.

It wasn’t until Harriet walked out of the shop with a brown owl that John realized that he should have asked for Sherlock’s address. They could owled each other or something. The other boy seemed like he would like having someone to talk to and John didn’t make friends all that easily. Hopefully, he would be back at the shop tomorrow.

“Was the matter, luv?” Bella asked her son, brushing his dark blond hair back. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing, Mum. I’m fine.”

“Come on, sweetie. I know that ice cream’ll cheer you right up.”

John sat and ate the Butterbeer ice cream his mum ordered for him, thinking about the boy hiding away in the bookshop.

Harriet was slurping at her strawberry and peanut butter cone, slouching back in her chair. She was keeping an eye on the Quidditch shop, barely paying attention as ice cream dripped on her shirt.

“Please, Harriet, sit up like a lady,” Bella pleaded. “You’re ruining that shirt.”

Grumbling, Harriet moved up a tiny bit, grabbing a napkin to wipe the drops away.

Bella sighed quietly through her nose, going back to the paper in her hand. She glanced at Gringotts, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

“Do you want some of my ice cream, Mum?” John asked. He held it out for her, wondering why she hadn’t gotten one for herself.

Snapping out of her dazed look, Bella smiled. “It’s all right, honey. It’s yours; you have it.”

“I like sharin’. Go on, it’s good.”

Bella gently took the sticky cone from his hand and licked around the edges, where it was starting to melt. After a moment, she handed it back and leaned forward to drop a kiss on John’s head.

“Thank you, darling.”

John smiled back at her, delighted to see his mother happy. She’d been very tired lately, coming back to their room at the Leaky Cauldron late. He knew that he was supposed to be asleep when she returned but he would watch her through his lashes as she sat to go over papers.

“Harry Potter got to have a broom in his first year,” Harriet announced. “Why can’t I have one?”

“Because you’re not Harry Potter. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know you want one but we’re just going to have to wait, yeah? Once you get to Hogwarts, if you get on the Quidditch team, then I’ll get you a broom, how’s that?”

“But how can I get on the team without a broom!”

“The school has plenty spares. They’ll let you use one, I’m sure.”

Harriet pouted, gaze still glued to the Quidditch shop.

Bella shoulders drooped slightly as she watched her daughter. A silence stretched before she went back to the papers in front of her, using her wand like a chopstick to knot her dark blond curls into a bun.

John went back to his treat, turning his eyes back towards the bookshop.

\---

The following morning, John was sprawled on the bed in their room, utterly bored. His mum had gone to clean the rooms of the Leaky Cauldron and Harriet was trying out spells with her new wand – a 9 ½” and cherry, with a dragon heartstring. Despite their mum telling her very strictly not to use her wand, Harriet was flipping through her schoolbooks, trying to find clever spells.

“You’re going to destroy something,” John warned in a singsong voice. “Mum’s going to kill you if you do.”

“I will not,” Harriet sneered. “And if I do, so what? There’s a spell for that.”

“Oh yeah? I bet you can’t even do a proper spell.” John stuck his tongue out at her, still very jealous that he had two more years to wait until he could go to Hogwarts.

“I can! Watch this.” Harriet pointed her wand at the side table. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

They both watched as nothing happened. John rolled onto his back, laughing like mad.

“You can’t do it! I bet you’re going to be the worst witch ever!”

“Shut up, you little termite!”

She moved the wand to point at him. John rolled off the bed just as a blast flew past him. It cracked the wall, sending splinters out in a shower.

“Oi, watch it, you lunatic!”

The door burst open and there stood their mother, looking ready to breathe fire.

“Harriet Jane Watson!” she bellowed.

“He started it!” Harriet yelled.

“I did not!”

“John, go explore or something. I need to have a talk with Harriet.” His mother pointed to the door.

Not arguing – there was no way he was staying to hear Harriet get yelled at – he turned and set off down the stairs. Before he hit the bottom step, he could hear his mother shouting.

Leaving the Leaky Cauldron, John shoved his hands into his pockets. Stupid Harriet with her stupid wand. He passed Ollivander’s, pouting. If only he’d had a wand, he would have shown her.

Making his way into Flourish and Blotts, John had to shimmy past the crowd of people at the counter. September 1st was approaching fast and everyone seemed to need books.

Trying to remember the route he had taken the day before, John walked past towers of books, looking for titles that he recognized.

“Sherlock!” he called out. “Hey, you back here?”

John turned corners and dodged mountains of books, calling out his new friend’s name.

“Oi, Sherlock, you here?”

“You are ridiculously loud,” drawled a voice.

John grinned and slipped through a small space between two bookshelves. He stumbled forward into the square area where Sherlock was laying across the sofa. If it weren’t for the fact that his shirt had changed, John would have thought Sherlock hadn’t left.

“Hiding from family again?” John asked, plopping down on the sofa next to Sherlock’s feet.

“Always. Mother invited the extended family over to celebrate Mycroft being made a Prefect, the git,” Sherlock sneered. He looked up at John. “You’ve splinters in your hair.”

John touched his head. “Yeah, Harriet blew up the wall. Mum’s telling her off now. She bloody deserves it. Nearly took my ear off. Utter nightmare, she is. Can’t wait until she leaves.”

“You’re living at the Leaky Cauldron,” Sherlock stated.

Nodding, John leaned back into the plush sofa. “Yeah. It’s cool because I get to come explore Diagon Alley but…”

“How did your father die?”

John brought his feet up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “How’d you know?”

“You haven’t mentioned him at all. You’ve recently moved into the Leaky Cauldron, where your mother works, indicating that you’re low on money and it’s more likely to mean that you’ve got a single parent. Your father could have left your mother but your behavior doesn’t indicate that. And you’re not being annoying and moping, so he died a while ago.”

“Wow,” John breathed. He cleared his throat and shifted a bit, resting his cheek on his knees. “He was an Auror. Got killed by some Death Eaters just before the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“You never knew him.”

John shook his head. “I was two. I don’t remember him. Harriet does, or says she does.”

“Hmm.”

Rising to his feet, John went over to a bookshelf and pulled a random book down. “How many of these have you read?”

“243.”

“Christ!” John exclaimed. “My head would explode!”

“I’ve got a Mind Palace.”

John turned, smiling. “A… Mind Palace? You joking?”

“No. My mind works like a Muggle computer. Files and files in my hard drive that I keep organized.”

John considered that, sitting down on the floor. He picked at an opening tear at the knee of his jeans. “Does it ever get loud in your head?”

Sherlock looked up from his book, meeting John’s eyes. “All the time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sherlock snapped the book shut and stood. It was the first time John saw his full height and realized that the boy was taller than him by a handful of inches. “I don’t understand how you normal people can function with your one-track minds. Must be so boring.”

“You’re sort of a cock, you know,” John said blankly.

Sherlock tipped his head back and laughed. John smiled as well and stood. After a moment, Sherlock looked to John. “Is that ice cream offer still open?”

“‘Course, mate. Come on, I’ve got some allowance money. We can even get some chocolate frogs. I’m missing a few cards.”

“Don’t bother.” Sherlock pulled out a small, jingling bag from his pocket. “I nicked some of my brother’s money. Treats are on me.”

“Won’t he be mad?”

Sherlock snorted, shoving his shoes back on. “He’s got plenty. Besides, he didn’t hide it well enough. He knows he’s got to make it a challenge.”

John shook his head. “You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

“Good. I’d hate to be boring. Come along, John.”

\---

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“I’m telling you: that wizard is an Unspeakable. It’s obvious from his robes.”

John couldn’t stop smiling. “What about him?”

“Father of a Muggle-born. That girl, there, with the black hair. She’s his only daughter, reminds him of her mother. She’s going into her first year. Her name’s Irene.”

“There’s no way you can know her name.”

“I heard him call out for her three minutes ago, when she wandered off. She’s a talented manipulator; managed to convince three shop-owners now to give her things for free, despite her father having money. Originally from America but now lives in London.”

“Seriously, this is like magic. Just extraordinary.”

Sherlock quietly dug his spoon into his cone of pumpkin ice cream.

“How do you get here anyway?” John asked. “Do you live around here?”

“Nope. I live near London. But we’ve got a fireplace and I just use the Floo Powder. Mrs Hudson lets me use her fireplace to come and go as I please.”

“Mrs Hudson?”

“She’s over on Quizzic Alley. Makes me tea.”

“I haven’t been to Quizzic Alley. Mum won’t let me leave Diagon.”

“Boring!” Sherlock declared.

John tossed a pepper-flavoured jellybean at his head. The dark-haired boy looked affronted before chucking a bean back at him.

Gasping loudly as an idea suddenly burst in John’s mind, the boy gave a manic grin. He looked around to check for adults around. “Watch this,” he whispered.

Staring intently at the beads, John put both hands around the container. He narrowed his eyes in concentration. After a few moments, a few pieces started floating, hovering several inches in front of their noses.

“Mum says I shouldn’t do magic until I go to school but it’s cool!” John laughed. “I once flew over our old house when Harriet was chasing me.”

Sherlock was quiet, watching the beans. He reached forward and poked one gently. Immediately, all of the candies fell back into the box. “Interesting.”

“Come on, you do it!” John pushed the box closer.

Sighing, Sherlock brought one foot up to his chair, leaning his head down on his knee. “I can’t.”

“What? Why not? It’s okay! No one’s gonna get mad because they can’t tell if we’re doing magic with all the adults around.”

Sherlock shook his head, his curls shaking. “No, I can’t do magic.”

“Like a…” John rubbed the back of his head.

“Like a Squib, John. I’m a Squib.”

John swallowed a few times, considering that. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sherlock slid off his seat, brushing off his shirt. He cleared his throat and turned away. “Goodbye, John.”

“Wait!” John jumped off his seat and grabbed Sherlock’s arm before he could take a step. “Where’re you going?”

"Back to my books. I've still got a lot to read. Besides, you don't want to be around someone like me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a Squib!" Sherlock said angrily, ripping his arm away. His face was flushed and he seemed to be shaking slightly. "Just leave me alone, John. Go back to making jellybeans float." 

"Hey! I don't care if you're magic or not! You're amazing and interesting and..." John shuffled his feet. "I thought we were friends."

Sherlock looked down at his shoes, his shoulder slumping. "I don't have friends, John. Especially not wizards. 'Wizards don't like Squibs,'" he quoted.

"Idiot." Sherlock blinked up in surprise at John's anger. The blond boy threw a jellybean at him. "You've got me."

They smiled tentatively at each other. John held his hand forward. After a few moments, Sherlock did as well and they shook hands.

"But, John?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought friends weren't supposed to insult each other."

John giggled. "No, but best friends can."

Sherlock's face flushed again, though he was smiling wide enough for the gap from his missing tooth to show.

"Come on." Sherlock grabbed the remaining candy, shoving it into John's pockets. "There's a spell I want to show you that you can do on Harriet once you get your wand. It'll make her ears turn into carrots."

**Author's Note:**

> *Spazzes because I cannot write children*
> 
> This'll potentially follow them during John's Hogwarts years :D
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
